Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
The smile I stupidly painted on her face like the grabby, horny old goat I am.
“Sure is, Colt,” she says. “If you like, you can take some home, but you’ll have to strain it yourself. You can do that through a piece of muslin or a cheesecloth, though. It’s easy enough. We can also check the extractor for a little sample.”
“Grandma would love it. Right, Dad?” He looks at me for permission.
Anything made with love or artsy passion is Mom’s religion.
“She would,” I say slowly.
“Great. I’ll go check the jar,” she says. “There won’t be much in there yet, but it’ll give you guys a taste, and you can always come back for more.”
Fuck no.
The last thing I need is to come back with her here alone. This visit proves I can’t be unaccompanied with this woman.
“We’ll wait by the car.” I hate how damn awkward I sound.
Colt gives me a weird glance that almost wrinkles his nose, but he doesn’t say anything as Winnie heads to the shed and I lead him outside.
I have just enough time to get behind the wheel and let Colt climb in the passenger seat before Winnie returns with a mason jar quarter-filled with the most purple honey I’ve ever seen.
“I know,” she says with a sunny smile, giving it the kind of look most people reserve for money or kittens. “Doesn’t it look like a dream? You’ll have to strain it for good measure—don’t eat it as is or you’ll get a lot of chewy bits.”
“Right.” I take the jar from her. “I’ll follow up with you about the rental contract soon. Watch your email.”
“Thanks.”
I start the vehicle, handing the jar to Colt and pulling out onto the road. We ride in silence for a few minutes as he examines the honey, turning it over in the evening light.
The stuff really glows like it’s backlit, an edible fantasy prop bizarrely made real.
“Dad, can I ask you something?” he says suddenly. “Are you, like… into Bee Lady?”
“What?” It comes out like a gunshot.
“You just… you’re letting her stay. But I can tell you don’t really want her to. I overheard you talking to Mrs. Potter at the office, about the trouble Winnie’s dad could cause. You hate surprises.”
Stupid me. That’s what I get for discussing the latest call with our receptionist while I poured coffee in the kitchen.
I should’ve known the boy eavesdrops like an attentive fox, always listening, even when he looks like he’s glued to his phone.
“She’s a paying guest, Colt. A few weeks of covered bookings are worth putting up with a little crap,” I say calmly.
“Dad, it’s okay. You would’ve told most other people like her to move on by now. Maybe you should, too. Just move on. If you like her, I say go for it.”
“I don’t like her.” My voice grates like a rusted engine when I lie this hard. I clear my throat, hot as hell under the collar. “You’re reading too much into this, boy. I’m only letting her stay because she’s paying. It’s business.”
“Yeah, but she’s weird.” He laughs. “Weird in a good way, I mean. But still. You don’t do weird. Or is this like an opposites attract sort of thing? The girls at school love those books.”
“It’s an I-will-kick-your-ass if you don’t drop it.” My face feels molten. “Money’s money, Colt. End of story.”
Scowling, he goes silent, but I can feel his eyes on me when he’s not looking at his phone.
It takes all my willpower not to carry on, building a better lie in my defense.
Whatever, though.
Better to take my own advice and drop it.
Drop her.
Stop thinking about how good she felt when I touched her, aching to slide my hands down to her ass.
If only it was that easy.
If only Winnie Emberly didn’t give me the worst sweet tooth for something far forbidden than neon-purple honey.
7
DON’T BEE FOOLISH (WINNIE)
Igive myself two full days of rest.
Two days of absolutely nothing but harvesting honey, geeking out with my online bee people on Reddit and TikTok, and stopping to enjoy life.
Relaxing. Eating well. Sleeping well, even. Turns out, being away from my controlling family and an ex who never loved me works wonders for my mental health.
Who knew?
But now it’s time to face the music, just like I promised Archer. Um, never mind the fact that we had a flipping moment.
If Colt hadn’t walked in on us, I’m sure his big gruff face would’ve kissed me—and I wouldn’t have objected one bit. I would’ve loved to feel his beard against my skin when I was already climbing him like a tree.
But the teenager showing up was honestly for the best.
Still, it’s not fair leaving Archer to fend off Dad alone.
I know my father, and he’s a human dog with a bone. He won’t let up once he has someone in his sights, meaning I’ll have to persuade him I’m both okay and not coming back.